Morning sunlight trickled through the windows, gently nudging Luca from his sleep. He opened his eyes slowly, his body still aching faintly, though nowhere near as bad as before. His thoughts churned the moment consciousness returned.
"Two weeks… It's already been two damn weeks?" he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Shit…"
The realization hit hard. He'd been unconscious—or at least barely aware—for a full fortnight. While the academy's theory lectures didn't concern him too much (he already had the foundational knowledge from his past life and game knowledge), what made his stomach churn was something else entirely.
"My daily training… I missed it for two straight weeks. Fuck."
His hand clutched his head tightly, as if trying to wring the frustration out. The edge he had so meticulously honed, the routine that gave him strength and progress—it had slipped. And with only a week left before the start of the third arc, time was rapidly running out.
